The Missing Universe
by malevolentrobot
Summary: Its just another day at Anomaly Task Force Project Headquarters for ATFP Lead Agent Lincoln Lee, which means Peter is missing, Walter and Suresh are blowing up things in the lab, his double Lincoln is disobeying orders again. Oh happy Monday.
1. Prologue: Regarding Anomalies and Such

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cout: "nUnencrypted data = "unencrypt;

Dossier #███████  
>FWD: ███████████████<br>11.8.2015GSY.

To █████ ██████████ As Well as Whom it May Concern,

You asked for me to retrieve a list of findings for you from ███████████████,███████, Texas on 'subject: Anomaly ' and the following entrie/s were able to be copied from their databases.

If this is in fact true, may God himself help us all.

101110101011010000010

{FWD:

Data feed complete. Loading...  
>Uplink complete. Current output: ████████, Anomaly Task Force Project .<br>Playback)Source&!Comp005███████████Facitlity  
>Path)DocumentSaved: 2015.5.6 08:22:14GST<p>

Playback initiated.

int main ()

{

string str ("███████");

string::iterator it;[PARAGRAPH OMITTED: RESTRICTED CLEARANCE]

-2015. Earth is now called Universe Prime and is in disarray, chaos reigns. People going missing, people coming back from the dead and people gaining supernatural and super human powers are now an everyday occurrence since 2011GSY. The United States of America has become a highly militarized state with even stricter regulations imposed upon those having Crossed Over, mutants, specials, and anyone fitting the bill "nonhuman". Then a record breaking Class 1 breach occurred in the space-time continuum, ripping through Ground Zero of New York City.

for ( it=() ; it cout *it;  
>return 0;}The FBI, CIA, ARC, ATFP and other unnamed agencies have since confined the area and other anomaly sites, kept them under the strictest observation and are ready to implement the Amber techniques from ███████ ███████ if necessary.<p>

/

;

Anomaly One was first observed shortly after 8.11.2006GSY when a bomb detonated in New York City. However, Late ARC Scientist and Professor Nick Cutter postulated that the bombing and timing of anomaly were unrelated events, but we believe it may have been credited to ██████████ an unknown special who manifested at the time of the accident. Furthermore, Cutter disclosed irrefutable proof regarding anomalies occurring before Anomaly One, possibly as long as the universe has existed.

No one can verify his statements as Professor Cutter and his team have since vanished from existence.

Because of the sudden vanishings and limited manpower, we are now working in conjunction with ARC, Fringe Division, FBI, CIA and other special interest groups like ███████ ███████ to address this issue with the Anomaly Task Force Project, being led by Senior Fringe Agent Lincoln Lee.

[PARAGRAPH OMITTED: RESTRICTED CLEARANCE]

Anomaly One (and all anomalies thereafter) resemble glowing shattered pieces of glass floating in mid-air, through which we have documented proof people, animals and objects can travel. We have yet determine if an anomaly can have a fixed location at both "ends" of the anomaly or if one end may be unstable and thus move location, nor do we know the reason they continue sporadically and without observable human influence. Thankfully we have concluded that the strength of the anomalies weaken over time and often close soon after initially opening. We have witnessed most Class 3 and below anomalies slowly lose their power, shrink in size, and collapse in on themselves in periods of time shorter than 24 hours [[[██████████; as witnessed in the Class 3 Berlin Airport Anomaly of 2012GSY.[1]

It has not yet been established how many times anomalies have occurred, nor where their originator resides, nor have we found a way to manipulate them yet. ATFP tech regarding the anomalies is limited to further upgrading of specialized magnetometers and radio transmitters to detect them after opening. No tech to date has been able to predict them opening, though we are running statistical algorithms with our already collected data on prime locations for anomalies to occur.

if ( memcmp (cstr, (), length ) == 0 )cout  
>"str and cstr have the same content.\n";<p>

Stepping directly into one of these anomalies, colloquially called "Crossing Over" is not limited by /the confines of the timeline when Anomaly One was first observed, as we have observed and recorded both flora, fauna, and otherwise presumed deceased people alive and well in multiple locations around Universe Prime. [edit;]We have undeniable, documented proof crossing over is not always time specific, anomalies can also transport, as an agent volunteering to cross over in Newark was later spotted in Los Angeles intact and presumably unharmed seconds later. 10123211010]]

The ATFP have implemented strict protocols regarding processing CO victims and objects. Detention, quarantining, and interrogation by local military until questioned and inspected by ATFP should be implemented to any persons caught unchipped or without a show-me. Lethal force should not be used under ANY circumstances unless absolutely necessary and authorized by senior ATFP agents.

Another curious phenomenon of Anomaly One is evolution of powers, as we have observed both non-specials, specials and mutants alike with documented abilities gaining and losing new powers. This occurrence seems to not be limited to just those who have Crossed Over and has created numerous dangerous individuals now being detained permanently. There is no known "cure" or neutralization of powers at this time, with exception of death, and empathic absorption [last observed by: Arthur Petrelli (████-2007)].  
>b.r

Perhaps most unsettling of all is the disappearance of key individuals since Anomaly One in a phenomenon regarded to as The Missing. Though Crossing Over is a possible explanation for a good majority of these cases, certain undeniably GPS recorded objects, places and people have vanished unexpectedly. ;[ We have no information why the people and objects targeted are chosen, just that it is likely due to the Butterfly Effect the anomalies are having on our universe Professor Cutter postulated. \\;

[PARAGRAPH OMITTED: RESTRICTED CLEARANCE]

We now categorize this current universe, Universe Prime, a "soft universe" that is now unstable due to the amount of timeline shifts created by Anomaly One and further anomalies. ATFP scientists currently predict it will collapse entirely on itself if its timeline remains undisrupted in the next forty to fifty years, barring further Class 3 or above anomaly occurrences that may accelerate the timeline degradation or eradication. As our expected collapse approaches more and more reports of minor (Class 4 and below) anomalies occurring have been reported and people are now willingly breaching restricted areas to Cross Over.

Despite numerous accounts of people crossing over and returning, no one has yet to be successful in erasing what we believe is the root of the original timeline distortion. This of course brings us to the point that we believe more structurally stable parallel universes exist than the ones we currently have access to, though these reports have yet to be substantiated by someone who has Crossed Over to our timeline. Surely we can then theorize tha█████████████-error; 1024242[421048240824=[= return 0;

}

string original = "███████";

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>char key = 'x';<p>

Data feed terminated.  
>Uplink severed. Current output: return 0;<br>Playback)Source&!Comp005███████████ Facitilty  
>Path)DocumentSaved: 2015.5.6 08:22:14GST<p>

Playback terminated by user.


	2. For Those We Left Behind

So if you made it through the prologue without giving up, I am eternally greatful for you giving my story a chance. I promise it gets better and that was just to get you up to speed on Universe Prime in 2015.

Um yeah, so I like epic crossovers? This was actually an idea for an RP that never really got off the ground because apparently I am too full of win and really just like pretending I am roleplaying with others when I am really just creating wacky universes in my own head.

Message me or leave reviews if you would like to converse about the epicness of this universe or writing a piece for it, because I am absolutely in love with it.

AND YAY FOR TOSSING CANON OUT THE DOOR. WHO NEEDS YOU ANYWAY CANON, YOU ONLY HURT ME. BABY DONT HURT ME NO MORE.

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

It's been one of those days.

He takes stock of the small victories at least. The latest anomaly finally sealed itself shut and no more Cretaceous-era _things_were to be found running around the Massachusetts countryside, Walter and Suresh managed not to blow anything up while testing their new subject and his double stayed on house arrest like a good little boy, which was impressive all things considering.

He'll probably have to send Agent Scully a thank you card for that small feat later.

Measuring out two fingers of scotch, Anomaly Task Force Project Lead Agent Lincoln Lee sits down and winces. He's getting older and at thirty-five he feels that bone-deep weariness having way too much responsibility probably gives. Add on top of that getting banged up on assignment really should be something he lets the junior agents do instead, but the pain keeps him from getting comfortable in this universe he protects but doesn't really belong to, keeps him moving like he promised her he would.

Three years have passed and the little box is still sitting in his office, neatly packed and a bit dusty since the last time it was opened exactly a year ago. He all but throws the other items on his desk off and spreads out the contents of the box, her personal affects, on his desk in the same order. It's a ritual he's done every year for the last three since she was declared part of The Missing.

"Drinking on the job again, Sir?" 'Liv smirks as she saunters in the office, baby Ella on her hip, and gives him a wide smile before handing Ella to him and pouring herself a smaller glass. "Well, cheers I guess."

Its testament to how much things have changed, watching the smooth lines of 'Liv's neck as she winces down the potent scotch, before taking back Ella from him. She looks contemplatively at all of the items covering his desk, the reverent way he handles them and the far-away look on his face and her smile softens into something less forced.

"Hmmm, three years it's been then?"

"Yeah," he grunts in reply, fingers skimming over her badge, feeling the sensation of the first and last and every time in between she touched it, dainty fingers clipping it to her blazer or shoving it roughly in her pocket. It's both fond and surreal and a bit electric to feel her so vividly again compared to the fading memories he has of their Olivia Dunham.

He didn't know her that well, but he knows all the ways she was like 'Liv now and he liked her stoicism and quiet strength.

While brushing his fingers over the one of the blazers they found afterwards she had left draped over a chair at ATFP HQ, something tightens in his chest and he realizes why when he looks up and sees double, both Olivia and 'Liv staring at him intently.

It could have just as easily been 'Liv he lost instead and maybe that's the real thing he is lamenting, how fragile their lives have become, because for every unexpected person they find turn up from Crossing Over, they seem to lose a loved one in their wake.

"How's Lincoln holding up?"

"Not a peep from Pointdexter today, of which I am eternally grateful, all things considering. Do know how awkward it was to have to officially sanction _myself_last year?"

"And that fiasco only happened because of me, might I remind you. If I hadn't lost myself a little there-" she tuts before pausing, vaguely remembering the hazy slide of familiar lips against hers but the unfamiliar way they tasted, not sure which memory that belongs to.

"You know, I was always the bad twin."

They both chortle fondly at that statement, only half-true. Lee pours more scotch, waves the bottle at 'Liv but she shakes her head, content to bounce a gurgling Ella on her lap instead.

"And Peter?" She quirks an eyebrow, but Lee waves her off.

"We'll find him when he wants to be found."

"You have before."

"Yeah, well… he wasn't actually hiding then. He'll turn up if there's a real crisis or runs out of money, I'm sure."

'Liv hums her quiet approval at that, looks around the room before resting her eyes on Lee, a serene look on her face.

"Linc, I do miss her too, you know. Once we sorted out our shit, anyway. It's just it's not as real to me sometimes, like sometimes I forget which one of us is here, you know?"

-_That terrifying feeling when she heard her own voice say_ you'll have to be strong for the the both of us now _before helplessly watching her jump through the Anomaly and it close up with a sickening crack behind her. Olivia's memories exploding like technicolour fireworks in her head, every thought fear dream transgression hope she had ever had as she held back Lincoln,_ their _Lincoln from following her with every last fiber of strength she had._-

"I know."

"She gave us," 'Liv trails off searching for the word, before shrugging instead. Clearly eloquence was not a strong suit of either of them, nor any of the other Olivia's she's consciously tapped into since then.

"Hope, 'Liv. She gave us _hope_," Lee finishes, and she nods. "Our world collapsed with all of our people in it except us. The strain partially unraveled whatever this universe is in the process. Two universes doomed to a miserable fate and she still gave us hope in humanity, to keep fighting for it every day."

"I could too, you know," she reminds him, but he shakes his head and looks pointedly at the baby in her lap he gave her so she wouldn't do exactly that. He won't let her become any more of a martyr than she already has. Her decision to let Olivia's personality bleed through and comingle into hers three years ago was enough of a personal sacrifice on her part for this war.

'Liv's still sharp as ever but Olivia's cool demeanor seems to be overriding her more vivacious one more and more each passing day.

There's a very pregnant pause and both occupants of the room just sit there in companionable silence, occasionally interrupted from their thoughts by the soft coos of their baby, now beginning to stir again.


	3. And For Those We Wish We Could Forget

Peter does turn up a couple months later once things have fallen back into as close to an amiable routine at ATFP HQ as can be considered, and it puts them all on tenterhooks until he promises that his arrival isn't a harbinger of anything particularly worse than they are dealing with already.

He strolls in casually, as if he owns the damn place while Lee is watching Connor and the tech teams run some new algorithms and recalibrate their magnetometers today, a quiet day in to lick their wounds after yesterday being only been moments too late to a Class 5 in Central Park that let loose a pack of something Connor referred to as "hellhounds" (an apt description, all things considering) that left two civilians dead and another five mauled in their wake.

Agents were dispatched immediately and they ended up catching the pack of feral dogs, but not before the anomaly closed leaving them in Universe Prime. Too dangerous to have loose or a liability at ATFP HQ, Lincoln gave the official order to put them down and an entire section of Manhattan was reported to have vanished out of thin air at the same time, causing far more problems and paperwork two dead people and a couple caged dogs ever could have.

"Agent Lee," Peter says and Lee nods as his only greeting to the taller man, dressed impeccably in head to toe black, including that goddamn peacoat. Lee still hasn't forgone his cargos and fatigues he got so used to from the other side for the suits and ties most of his colleagues in the rest of the Federal Bureau wear. FBI Chief Director Walter Skinner and ATFP Chief Director James Lester have already made it pretty clear to the board that they do things a little differently at ATFP.

"Word on the street is that your man Cutter is back and hiding out," Peter tells him once they are out of earshot of Connor, falling into step with Lee as he walks down the corridor to his office. "I was in Mombasa for a while-"

Lee halts to a stop immediately, just before his desk. "And since when have we ever trusted intel from your contact in Mombasa?"

"You'll trust this this info," Peter reassures before reaching into his rucksack and throwing a hefty stack of papers and surveillance photos onto Lee's desk. "Apparently some guy matching Cutter's description washed up on shore and made a big deal there a couple days back. His show-me we never deactivated was flagged two days later in Egypt, but the man detained with it definitely wasn't Cutter."

"Is the guy still in holding?" Lee asks, sitting down so he can thumb through the file, peering at the graining photos and _holy shit_, it really is the now not-so-late Nick Cutter.

Peter shakes his head.

"Nope, something nasty had its way through the town. Couple dead, couple missing, the usual crap. I think Cutter may have been heading there tracking anomalies on his own but either backed out when he got word of what was on the other side or found another one instead."

"Interesting," Lee replies blandly, quickly going back through it once more before handing back the file. "So we basically have nothing."

Peter raises an eyebrow. "Except irrefutable proof Cutter is alive."

"Look, Peter… he's as good as dead if he's gone rogue," Lee sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and feeling once again desperately in need of a decent drink. Even the chain of hands the file crossed didn't give him any clues to where Cutter was, what he was doing, or why anyone had an interest in following him besides the government, just proof Peter at least didn't _entirely_lie to him about his adventures.

"You may think so, I don't." Peter replies confidently. "See the thing is, the sheer amount of information he could corroborate, contribute to our findings, help my dad with… I don't even need to see him in person, just a phone call could suffice. Three days of me working with him and we could be out of his hair for good.

"And Connor's here, if he knew Connor was working with us-"

"He's made it pretty clear what interests he has, Peter. And if we found him, he'd never be able to leave ATFP HQ, you know that." Lee steeples his fingers and continues on to the terrible part his job . "The government might even press treason charges against him. It's already bad enough I have to beat Skinner and Lester off my ass every time you go off on one of your wild goose chases-"

Peter manages to give him his cockiest grin. "Ah, but the geese I chase lay golden eggs, Linc."

"Maybe this time, Bishop. Give me back that file so I can make copies, yeah?" Lee sighs and Peter's already halfway into his rucksack for it. "Actually, on second thought, I'm feeling magnanimous today. Go send that headache over to Lincoln. He's probably dying for a reason to get out of HQ."

That gets him another eyebrow, and _yeah, he probably deserved that one._

"How is Linc doing anyway?"

"You people keep asking me that." Lee shrugs. "He's coping. Adequately."

Peter rolls his eyes at Lee's parsed words. "Its funny, I still remember a different timeline where they put me on a leash and he was my guardian."

"See, you two crazy kids have plenty of shared experiences. Go forth, talk."

Peter looks contemplative for a moment before finding a decent jibe to throw at Lee. "Seems like you'd be just as adequately qualified to speak on the matter, all things considering."

_Touché. _

"He finds it condescending when it comes from me, since I'm his boss. And dating the girl stuck carrying her personality. And a different version of him. And also his_ boss_. Be reasonable."

"And how's the happy little family doing while we're on the subject?"

"Swell, 'Liv's at her place with Ella and still inactive another couple months. Only six months old and she's already manifested- floats toys around her room and stuff. Drives 'Liv absolutely mad."

Peter chuckles before standing up, straightening his coat in the process and Lee knows he passed whatever that weird test Peter just administered. He puts out his hand as if to offer a handshake, but puts it back when Lee just arches an eyebrow at him casually from behind his desk.

"You're not leaving HQ just yet," Lee reminds him, effectively halting the grin on Peter's face. "And be glad I don't rope you into the shitstorm of paperwork I'm going to have to do to requisition the materials for you and Pointdexter to hunt Cutter down. Lester, I'm sure, is going to be thrilled about this new development."

"Lincoln should be in the lab with Walter and Scully," he adds right before Peter turns the direction of the wrong corridor. "They're indulging Suresh's new favorite pastime: new tests for Sylar."

"Of course, of course. Wait, what's a _Sylar_?"

"Go see for yourself," Lee replies, making shooing motions already on the phone and dialing the Chief Director's number.

Peter nods once before leaving silently.

.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

A/N: In case you are wondering, yes both Lee and 'Liv picked up some extra abilities along the way, psychometry in the case of Lee and 'Liv's empathy to her other selves.

And awww, telekinetic baby! Someone had to have one since Scully gave up William, something I didn't want to change for the story.


	4. And Those Who Are Back From the Grave

He's barely able to get off the phone with Lester about Peter's intel and formulate a plan of action, as the fedora-adorned figure of Connor Temple storms through his office doors, an absolutely murderous look on his face. Lee sits back behind his desk, casually shuffles some paperwork on his desk and prepares for what will probably be the twenty-eight year old equivalent of a tantrum.

"So was anyone going to decide to share with me that Cutter is back from the dead or am I really _that_bloody useless to you all?" He fumes and Lee just stares at him impassively, until he throws himself into one of Lee's chairs with a sigh.

"That's currently classified higher than you should know, Connor."

"You're not the only one with orders high up, you tosser," Connor adds stubbornly and that answered the question Lee has been wondering for quite some time, if Connor has been reporting directly to his own boss Lester these days. "Still, I'd have hoped you'd tell a bloke when his friend is back."

"It crossed my mind, but then you'd want to go with, and I need you here more."

Which is the truth. Connor isn't nearly as expendable to the operation as he thinks he is, but then again most of the brainier people in ATFP aren't. Field agents come and go and they can take military personnel on field assignments if need be, but the analytical minds that turn the cogs at HQ… not so much. And those seem to be the ones Missing more and more each time. The universe must be cruel with her sense of irony.

"Bishop and Lincoln can handle Cuttter."

"Let me go talk to him," Connor pleads, opening his hands in a helpless gesture. "I can get him to come back."

"No! If he comes back, he isn't leaving," Lee replies sharply, hoping Connor will think long and hard about that statement before firing off any more questions at him. He'd tell him more, but he's also pretty sure now his office is bugged, so he all but drags Connor out of his chair and pushes him out the doors of his office. "Come. Let's go take a walk."

"My office is bugged, isn't it?" Lee hisses into his ear and Connor raises an eyebrow of his own, but nods minutely. "_Figures._Find me a place here that isn't." He pushes him down the hallway and lets the younger man lead them to a supply closet on the second floor. And this isn't going to look suspicious at all.

"Look, I just want you to know-" the younger man begins hurriedly once they are inside and Lee has barred the door, wedged between shelves and cleaning supplies, but Lee cuts him off.

"I know and I don't care for the explanation right now, just find me a temporary way to disable the bugs in my office quietly. Until then, if you must know sensitive details, this isn't a retrieval mission. Bishop is going to shake whatever guys go with him and contact Cutter on his own."

"But that means Peter and Lincoln-" Connor stammers and the boy is pretty quick on the uptake, but it still takes all of Lee's willpower not to grab the dark haired young man and roughly shake him just to get the point across that this is a lot bigger than just his friend coming back.

"I know what that means for Peter and Lincoln, and that's why this is so sensitive!" He hisses to avoid shouting. "I can't have you running a side operation with Lester during this, okay? Your pal Lester isn't so great that he'd drop the treason charges Cutter is facing if they extradite him back to the US, and I don't think you want that outcome either."

"_Bloody hell_," Connor mutters, scuffing his shoe against the linoleum floor. He pauses for a moment before replying. "No, I don't."

"How long will it take to jam the bugs? I only need a couple minutes so you can tell me everything, and I mean _everything_you know about Nick Cutter that I can relay back to Bishop."

"Not long, but all of HQ would go offline for a moment if you want the fastest and easiest way."

He takes a moment to weigh the risks, knowing that there's a minute chance something _terrible_could inevitably go wrong in the couple minutes the electronics are down, but decides that it's probably worth himself, Bishop and Connor not losing their jobs or worse.

Connor's eyes are downcast, and he's still scuffing the floor with his shoe, probably weighing the outcomes of his own insubordination if found out by Lester.

"Hey," Connor's head snaps up at the sound of Lee's voice. "Thanks. For everything. I'm not going to lie to you that what we are doing won't get us into serious trouble, but thanks for at least trusting my judgment."

Connor just shrugs. "Well, 'm not doing this for you. This is for Cutter. And Abby."

"I can appreciate it all the same," Lee replies as he moves the chair away from the door, scans the corridor as empty and quietly slips out of the supply closet, Connor in tow. "Okay, let's get back up to my office now before someone notices us gone."

They walk back up to his office the long way, Lee taking the moment to really take in the enormity of the ATFP headquarters building. Twenty floors of shiny metal and glass holding everything you could possibly imagine, from interrogation rooms, a café because Lee has since developed quite the taste for Universe Prime coffee, academy classes and an indoor shooting range, to living quarters for the more present employees like Lee, Connor and Dr. Walter Bishop.

Sometimes he forgets just how huge this building he's in charge of is when between administrative work and 'Liv it keeps him cooped up on the fourth floor most of the time.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"Okay, this is everything Bishop brought back from his little jaunt around the world," Lee says as he slides the thick manila envelope across his desk to Connor. "Says your pal washed up on a shore and ended up in Mombasa a few days back."

"Mombasa?" Connor echoes quietly, as Lee nods. Apparently there's no obvious connection Connor can think of as to why his old boss would be there either so that hope is a bust.

They do get some progress though when flipping through the file past the heavily retracted notes, Connor's eyes begin to widen as he looks at the surveillance photos. Lee gives him a curious look as he stops and stabs his finger at the man Peter claimed they detained in Cairo with Cutter's show-me.

"Um Lee, this is big. _Really fucking big,_" Connor replies excitedly, and Lee comes around his desk to see exactly what the big deal is about.

"Cutter isn't the only bloke back from the grave. That man in your photographs, that's our old co-worker Stephen Hart."

"Who?"


	5. And Those Who Mean Us Harm

A _Sylar_ ends up being a guy, though Peter is pretty sure his name was Gabriel last time he saw him and he hadn't been introduced to monochrome black or hair gel. He's in a plexiglas, well _cage_ is the most practical way to put it, but it looks a little less clinical and austere than that. The look on his face is vaguely frustrated, thick eyebrows scrunched together as he's trailing wiring and banging on the glass hard enough for it to vibrate.

"Mohinder," he yells, as various objects inside the cage whirl around like a tornado before smacking ineffectually into the glass. "This isn't working!"

Except to Peter it looks very much like it is working. He scans the room but doesn't see Lincoln or Scully, so bust there, but doesn't see any harm in sticking around for a moment for the show.

"_Extraordinary_," Walter exclaims, excitedly scribbling something down while chewing on a red vine but Dr. Suresh doesn't look quite as enthusiastic with the results. "Marinder, is his telekinesis limited to lighter objects currently?"

"For now," Mohinder sighs, not even bothering to correct Dr. Bishop's odd quirk for forgetting names, since it seems to not just be isolated to him. Lincoln's been called every president Mohinder can remember from long ago taking an American History class in Madras, and the names he calls many of the others aren't nearly as nice.

Looking at Sylar's brain wave patterns thoroughly, he tries his best to avoiding the other man's eyes, doesn't want him to see that he's baffled that Gabriel's -_no, Sylar. This isn't your Gabriel anymore_- tests are showing no improvement. That what he's seeing isn't particularly hopeful, telekinesis aside. They're still basically at square one with their precious Patient Zero. "He claims in his timeline it was much stronger, levitation, teleportation, kinetic fields. But I think he's one of the few we've seen who have actually regressed in their abilities since crossing over."

"Regressed my ass," Peter huffs, his eyes are still glued on Sylar who is now casually floating objects at non-lethal speeds, watches the office supplies drift around lazily. He's a quick learn, possibly quicker than Peter even, already catching Peter staring at him discreetly and grins. It's the grin of a very cunning predator, even white teeth shark-like and ready to rip a carotid artery to shreds at a moment's notice. The action's somehow still incredibly unnerving even to Peter who has seen it all (in four different universes no less), even though he probably should have expected it from a man who obviously can't be trusted not to harm others and is therefore in a plexiglas cage.

It's insight at least that this Sylar isn't someone to be trifled with later, at any rate.

Peter rolls his eyes at the bravado, turns to walk away but not before hearing the resonating thud of a stapler smacking exactly where his head would be if there wasn't any barrier.

Sylar gives him an innocent look before ominously waving goodbye.

"Bye Peter," he drawls. "Can't wait for you to visit again. The good doctor has told me so much about you. How special you are. I can't wait to see what makes you… _tick_."

Mohinder begins to say something but Peter cuts him off with a wave of his hand, halfway out of the lab already.

.  
>.<p>

* * *

><p>.<p>

_They cheated destiny_, she thinks as she stares into the mirrors of her mind, knowing in one iteration she's asleep in bed, tucked safely in an ATFP bed, Lee by her side. _Perverted the natural order, stole something from Mother Nature and Mother Nature tends to guard her secrets jealously, possessively even._

Her pupils dilate and her mind opens as not just Olivia's gift, thousands of iterations of herself pour in, clamor to be the one heard by her mind as she sifts for the more relevant ones, the one's most similar to their world. _She sees hundreds of universes falling apart before her eyes, hundreds more hanging by a thread, some already withered hopeless husks, others about as stable as the one she is now._

None of them are better, and none of it gives her hope.

I_n some she's a doctor, a dancer, a soldier, a sailor, a junkie. In all of them (including this one) she's a weapon to be wielded by those who know more than she does, a piece of metal to be crafted into something exquisite and sharply honed for the coming war, whatever that version of the war may be. It's a bitter feeling being used by the universe, but through all of them she finds a thread of hope and follows it to its origin._

All of them know what it's like to be loved by Lincoln in some way. Some iterations are cherished, coveted, craved, many of them reciprocate the feeling mutual, but only one version knows what it's like to love Peter Bishop, and to be loved by Peter in turn and that voice is the loudest of all, so loud 'Liv can't find herself willing to disobey. After all, they cheated the cosmos really, and the cosmos wants its dues back, some _quid pro quo_. She can feel the bone deep hum that the universe wants the Olivia that was supposed to reside here take back her rightful place, not this strange impostor from a strange land, and she can feel the pull like an undertow so bad she lets it swallow her whole.

_She will never be alone again._

_In another timeline she gasps as she opens her eyes and pulls the electrodes from her head, the IV from her arm and both Walter and Suresh are saying something to her, Peter helping her out with strong hands around her arms as she stumbles. They're all saying things to her but its like the volume has been turned down almost to mute as more memories explode behind her eyes, and just looking at Peter's aura makes her head hurt. She nearly retches from the vertigo, but manages to keep herself upright with his help, wobbly legs moving in the direction of the nearest wastebasket._

Lee snuffles and throws a protective arm around her midsection, dead asleep for the first time in ages. It brings a smile to her weary face when draws her closer and she can hear the gentle hum of the baby monitor mercifully quiet on her nightstand. The back of her neck itches and she knows her tattoo will be missing tomorrow.

_It's only the beginning._


	6. Time and Time Again

She's running, the familiar and comforting smell of ozone surrounding her as she narrowly avoids stepping into a shallow ravine, jumps a fence and finds herself in some sort of field, a city further off into the horizon.

A battered sign on the ground, rusted in places reads Welcome to Sector 5. Please enjoy your stay and present your show-me at the gate. We Thank you for your cooperation. As she gets to the top of the hill she is climbing her eyes widen in surprise at the sprawl in the distance, some semblance of a crumbling and dirty metropolitan area that doesn't look familiar to her blue eyes.

She thought she died, the last thing her mind remembers is a dark figure looming over her, sharp pain and lots of blood and then a flash of light. Her clothing is still bloody, torn in places, and her blonde hair is matted and dirty giving her a distinct feral air about her. Her thigh still hurts like a bitch, but she can put weight on it for the most part so it will have to do until she finds a way to patch it up herself.

Because she can already tell that this time she really is alone now, she's a stranger in a strange world and her vengeance is the only thing she has left to sustain her.

Quick on her feet, she slips easily into the shadows of downtown Sector 5 slums and avoids the thugs that patrol many of the crumbling, homeless corridors. Those that do decide to mess with her, she leaves only the smell of charred flesh and the crackling of blue sparks in her wake as she makes her way to the gleaming glass and chrome of Boston.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Peter finds Agent Lincoln two floors down in the morgue with Scully, casually flipping through a file while the red haired woman performs an autopsy on the latest creature they managed to catch wandering the outskirts of an anomaly. The anatomy doesn't look like anything Peter has seen before so he's guessing it's probably something that slipped through an anomaly from the future, some type of chimera by the looks of it.

"Agents Lincoln, Scully," Peter greets, gets a nod from both in reply. "How's life in the basement?"

The quip doesn't garner him any attention. Lincoln is busy studiously examining a file, and Scully is of course occupied as usual with some creature they've found and sent to her for examination.

"So, er…you hear about the lifting of your suspension, Linc? Lee said he was feeling magnanimous."

That gets both of their attention. Lincoln's head is instantly out from the file to stare at Peter, a question already playing on his lips as Peter smiles easy, striding over to lean casually on the table Lincoln is sitting behind, giving him a half-shrug before turning to Scully who just snorts. She arches a skeptical eyebrow at the lab's occupants before returning to her scalpelwork.

"Well," Lincoln clears his throat. "That is something, I suppose. And the catch?"

"You know as well as I do that everything with Lee has a catch. I'm sure we'll find out soon enough. Think of this as a good behavior… fieldtrip for now."

Lincoln rolls his eyes but Peter's reassurances are enough to assuage him until Lincoln realizes Peter is holding their assignment out in front of him, waiting for Lincoln to take it and confirmation that he's onboard for this mission. He takes the file, thumbing through it as Peter watches Scully weigh the vaguely distinguishable organs of the chimera one by one, dictating her notes and slopping mucus along the way with a grimace. The methodical nature of her work is oddly calming, the same way doing differential calculations calms Peter when he's feeling antsy. He idly wonders what this version of Lincoln does to relieve stress, but quashes the train of thought that leads to before it gets out of hand.

"This is all on ARC scientist Professor Cutter?" Lincoln says with a frown, snapping Peter out of his musings. "I know I've heard that name before…"

"You've found Cutter?" Scully asks, stopping in her tracks to peel off her gloves and toss them in the bin before approaching them, looking over Lincoln's shoulder at the grainy photographs supplied in the file. "Have you told Connor yet?"

"Not exactly," Peter begins. "Official record is that his trail went cold in Cairo when his show-me came up in the possession of another person. And yeah, Temple knows. Claims it was their old partner Stephen Hart with the show-me, though we can't find any intel on a Stephen Hart in Prime that matches his description or Connor's story of him."

"Another CO-victim then?" Lincoln finishes, closing the file and handing it to Scully who's resting a hand on his forearm, rather than handing the file back to Peter.

"I don't know. Probably. If you ask me… there's something a bit off about the both of them showing up. I mean, also that could just as well not be Prime's Cutter -"

"Which means we are going to Cairo and detaining an innocent man for treason," Lincoln finishes and Peter nods, absently scratching at his head, mussing his hair even further, giving him more of his trademark perpetually disheveled look.

"Most of the CO-victims we detain are innocent," Scully adds, and there's no denying that. Connor's data analysis programs have proven only roughly 5% of those who have crossed over are a threat to the inhabitants of Prime, even with taking into account occasional CO-mutations like power occurrence and power evolution in specials. Most people and specials alike given a second chance at life in Universe Prime seem to take it well, all things considering, the exceptions like the already psychopathic Sylar much more of a rarity than many would think.

"And how do you know the good professor anyway, Dana?" Peter finally asks, Scully giving him an appraising look for his deduction.

"Academic circles mostly, quite the same way I knew of your father's work. I think Professor Cutter also did a consult on an X-File once or twice for us, but those are the sorts of details Mulder was always better at remembering than me. I remember his accent mostly and reading about his work, nothing useful if that's what you are getting at."

"And you don't remember his assistant Mr. Hart?"

"No," she replies. "In fact, I thought his wife was his assistant. We had a file on her going Missing, I remember running teams to try find leads before it went cold case. "

"That's what I remember too, but Connor has distinct memories of this Hart guy." Peter shrugs before grinning affably at the two agents. "I guess crazier things than the universe rewriting itself to not include a person have happened in Prime; I shouldn't feel like the pleasure was only mine to have."

Lincoln rolls his eyes, but the smile tugging on his lips is noticeable enough to someone who knows him. He's looking more bright-eyed than usual, and Peter thinks it's not just him under a particularly well-lit part of the fluorescent lighting of the morgue, haloing his figure. They stand there for a moment, Scully still flipping through Cutter's file and Lincoln coughs discreetly in Peter's direction to get his attention. It's then that Peter finally remembers he's supposed to be getting a team ready and a strategy for the Cairo trip.

"Anyway, pack your bags soon, Linc. We leave for Cairo at 18:00," Peter says before tapping his comm cuff (and he's not sure he'll ever get used to them even though they are way cooler than cellphones), beginning to list off the items needed to the junior agent that answers.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"This is-" Scully begins the moment Peter clears the threshold, chatting animatedly on his comm cuff and doors swinging back into place and muffling their conversation.

Lincoln sighs and the look in his eyes is almost pleadingly, the frosty, guarded exterior he normally wears gone now that only she is the only one around to observe him. "Please don't say it."

"A terrible idea," Scully finishes while shaking her head. "It sounds like a set-up, taking you and wild card Bishop out there."

"We used to work teams before…" Lincoln trails off before catching himself thinking out loud about their glaringly missing link, the woman who grounded them both so well and was the catalyst for so much change in the dynamics at ATFP. Even three years later he can't put into words the ache he feels when he remembers his blonde haired partner before she was added to the lists of those who were gone, dead to the government, dead to the world save him and a few close others. "I want to believe this isn't a huge deal and I know Peter wouldn't screw me, being this close to a four -bagger, but you're right. I just don't trust him."

The him Lincoln is referring to goes without saying. "He's ruthless, Dana. And I know he's planning something, I just can't tell if Peter is onboard or not yet," Lincoln sighs, taking off his glasses to rub at the bridge of his nose.

"The shrinks here would have a field day about the both of your trust issues if either of you would ever go talk to them, or each other for that matter." Scully laughs, before placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I hope you are right about no ulterior motives. It would do you some good to get out of here for a change."

"Not that I mind the company, but in my experience at ATFP… things should rarely be taken just at face value," she adds hastily before dropping her hand and turning on her heel to fetch her recorder and autopsy notes at the other table.

"Trust no one?" Lincoln asks, and the look on her face is one he knows well enough when he's done something to reminding her of Mulder.

It still manages to bring a small smile to her lips though, as she puts on a pair of gloves to resume her autopsy of the predator, leaving Lincoln standing in the middle of the lab alone with his thoughts his only company.


	7. Requiem in D minor

Six Years Ago:

_He peered at their doubles from behind the thick frames of his glasses and came to the conclusion almost immediately that they're not quite the same, but also not quite different enough. He could see the red-haired Olivia Dunham of their side react to something with the same expressions he would have expected from his Olivia (his? Not yet), albeit a bit more animatedly, while she talked to their side's him and it easily looked like a conversation he could have seen himself having with her, just differently dressed. And maybe a foot more personal space between them._

_His doppelganger Fringe Agent Lincoln Lee (then, he hadn't gotten his promotion yet) smiled a little too easily at Agent Dunham, both versions, and looked pointedly smug whenever he made eye contact with Lincoln, spiky hair and boyish charm Lincoln wasn't entirely sure he himself possessed. At the very least, he knew he certainly didn't possess the same cargo pants or hair product at home._

_He could confidently say that watching this buttoned-down, more casual version of himself sprawled out loosely in a chair once Broyles left the room was far more unsettling that a lot of things he had seen so far since joining Fringe Division (that of course, radically changed in the next years), laying eyes on what-could-have-been, what-actually-is on the other side of the looking glass._

_He shifted in his seat, slightly uncomfortable under his double's inscrutable stare before Lee went back to charming his partner, and he wondered if that version of him was thinking anything close to what he was thinking at that moment. Probably not, he didn't look like much phased him. Lincoln even read in his casefile that Lee nearly got blown up once, so his double must have been some kind of unflappable badass over in the other universe. It made his head almost spin when he blinked at the two again owlishly and heard Walter's voice in his ear saying it's truly remarkable how things diverge._

_All that charm, however, only got him a small quirk of his universe's Olivia's lips in return, and he was oddly comforted that Olivia didn't take the bait. Perhaps it's the small victories after all._

_"You look unsettled," Olivia stated after they'd finally conversed about all the particulars of the case and were able to pack up and return to their universe. They walked off the bridge just barely out of earshot from their doppelgangers and his mind still reeled from the day's events, the strangeness of it all. He really couldn't think of a particular rejoinder for Olivia's statement, so he ended up being just content to follow her lead. "It is rather unsettling, isn't it?"_

_He nodded his head in reply, because to say more could possibly be demeaning to Olivia's experiences. After all, he just met a different version of himself and having a moment of self-crisis and being stuffed in a supply closet by him was hardly anything traumatic on the sliding scale of his life experiences. He had no idea how Olivia had come to terms with the betrayal by her own "twin", what terrible things happened to her while she was over there, but her choice to favour addressing their Agent Lee combined with the tightness of her mouth and flinty looks she gave her red-haired double told him that whatever it was, she hadn't completely gotten over it._

_"Your time over there. That's why you're so nice to him, isn't it?" He blurted it out, almost was ready to keep it to himself but was just so curious to know. Her head snapped up from checking her phone instantly, blond hair falling into her face he wanted to reach out and tuck behind her ear, as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his FBI issued windbreaker._

_The look on her face was not unkind when she stared at him for a moment before she replied, but it definitely made him feel like he should tread carefully with what he said to her next._

_"He's an okay guy," she supplied, after a beat and a half-shrug. "He was… good to me while I was her. Also was the first to tell me afterwards that he didn't know what was going on, that the higher-up's kept him in the dark. I believe him."_

_"An okay guy," Lincoln echoed slightly incredulous, and Olivia gave him one of those sideways looks before placing a placating hand on his shoulder._

_"Yeah. Okay."_

_They stood there for a moment frozen, locked in time (not literally, but he couldn't seem to command his legs to move or his eyes to look away from her), and after a beat it went from painfully awkward to okay as Olivia's face became serene and she moved closer, and her hand moved up almost to his neck and he could feel his heart practically hammering out his chest._

_"Lincoln, I—" she started, resting the hand on his shoulder. He reached up a hand to brush that stray lock of hair out of her face, but then she abruptly pulled away, as if she just remembered something she had forgotten._

_Then it really was just him standing there, flummoxed because he wasn't sure what to do._

_"You know, he does have good taste but I think mine might be better," he cracked mischeviously, hoping it would dispel the lingering awkwardness, hands shoved back into his pockets and he mentally kicked himself for being so indecisive, for not kissing her a moment ago like his double probably would have. "I can confidently say that I like you better as a blonde."_

_And he knew that she knew he meant much more than just hair. The Dunham of the other side, he wasn't quite sure what to think of her, the predatory looks she gave him as she very blatantly flirted with him and everyone else in the room (including her double). That eerie false cheerfulness until they talked about a case, only then she reminded him much more of the Olivia that he knew._

_The smile this Olivia shared with him then was much wider and real than anything his double coaxed out of her that day, and that's something he realized he could definitely add to his own list of accomplishments and get used to. He looked at her as her face lit up with such rare joy and it made him feel brave, bold in all the right ways so he took in a deep breath and pushed on._

_"You want to go get something to eat?"_

_"I thought you'd never ask. I'm starving."_

* * *

><p>He remembers this day more than most days he has now, etched it into his mind to not forget why he keeps it together each day, even in her absence. Olivia said yes, and a relationship started tentatively, with small touches and stilted silences, small grins and he remembers the smell of her blonde hair on his pillow, how radiant and strong she was that night, taking his breath away just like everything else she did.<p>

It was the beginning of things ending.

* * *

><p>Its hours into the flight and Peter's quiet, still hasn't spoken a word during the trip, apparently content to mull over his own thoughts, what he has lost in this war. <em>Probably even more than most,<em> Lincoln thinks. From what he's been told (mostly by Peter himself, but some by Olivia before— yeah) Peter lost a world that was beginning to be right, to come together, and then was thrown into Universe Prime and never quite shook his status of being the interloper, even though Lee gave him more access and freedom than most other consultants, agents even.

He has his fair share of moody days since Olivia left, as if she was the thing tethering them both, and its that commonality that made Peter begin to confide in Lincoln about everything, the things he omitted from the dossiers at first because he didn't want to talk about them, memories still fresh and painful. The way he kept a wide berth from both Olivia and 'Liv at first, as if history would repeat itself, but still seemed to be inevitably drawn to both of them.

In fact, Lincoln might even be willing to admit this Peter Bishop considers him a friend, even odder still.

"The future's changing every day, Linc," Peter sighs, staring out the plane window, and yeah, he gets that even if Peter gets it more. "Whole universes are collapsing because of our actions. People dying, people never being born, just so we can keep what we have now and we don't even know if what we are doing is right."

"Its not your fault," Lincoln reminds him. His tone isn't particularly conciliatory, but it is the truth. "No one could have predicted the anomalies doing what they did, what they do. We don't even know if Walter caused them."

Peter just stares at him in reply to that and Lincoln realizes its been a while since he saw that look on Peter's face, his blue eyes slightly glassy and unfocused like the night he had been drinking with Lincoln and told him that he wanted to give up, wanted to say _fuck all_ and to go back to his home, five years back and some odd universes apart where Olivia was alive and tangible and Astrid was there too, home where he's just met Lincoln and regards him with curiosity, being more familiar with the other universe's Agent Lee.

"Do you think it matters? Anything we are doing?"

"Admittedly, I'm not the best person to ask," Lincoln replies softly, because he isn't. There's a difference between doing what's right and the fact he'd gladly jump through any anomaly if it even had the potential to have his Olivia alive in it (which, despite being against the law is also just as right), despite the fact this universe probably needs him in it. He's sure Peter would do the same if given the chance.

"You're the most honest person left here, Linc. Probably the only one without a broken moral compass in HQ. Its tragic," Peter smiles and its somewhat a sad smile despite him hoping to lighten the mood.

Lincoln just gives him a small smile in return.

"Strange days, these are," he replies, taking off his glasses and setting them on the tray to his side. He sees Peter nods his head in conformation, before he closes his eyes and sees blonde hair and green eyes as soon as they shut. He doesn't need psychometry for his memories of Olivia, they are as fresh as the day they were made.

He hears the click of Peter reclining his seat and assumes the conversation, for now is over.

They don't speak the rest of the way to Cairo.


End file.
